


I Don't Know Who You Are

by closemyeyesandleap



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Lena Luthor Needs a Hug, Post-Season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24376174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/closemyeyesandleap/pseuds/closemyeyesandleap
Summary: Soon after defeating Lex and Leviathan, Kara has already gone back to normal.Lena isn’t sure how to ever find normal again.ORLena talks. Kara listens.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 37
Kudos: 301





	I Don't Know Who You Are

**Author's Note:**

> Mention of physical and emotional child abuse

“I’m planning on starting my _Aliens of National City_ column again. Even though public opinion on aliens has improved a lot, I miss it. And I think other people do too. I’m going to interview a Phorian in Bayview the day after—ooh! That reminds me. I also found this great Italian bakery. I’ll pick up some cannolis for game night on Friday! They’re massive, you’ve gotta see these things.”

Lena blinked across the table at Kara. 

The other woman’s blue eyes were as bright as the pastel blouse she wore. Kara chatted on, pausing only to alternate bites from the four breakfasts taking up most of the table. 

Despite the light streaming in through the broad windows, illuminating the antique bookshelves and whimsical art of what had—before everything—been their favorite brunch spot, Lena started to feel dizzy. 

Kara was only three feet away. The only thing between them was the table piled high with food. And yet, Lena felt like she was looking at her through a tunnel.

A tunnel that was growing narrower and narrower.

Kara continued on, unaware of Lena’s distress.

“Oh, and this is hilarious. Nia told him that she had dreamed of her birthday present, and that it was the best one she’d ever had. So poor Brainy spends the next three days panicking because he has no idea what he’s going to––” 

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Kara’s mouth fell open mid-sentence. Her fork hovered halfway between the piles of pancakes on her plate and her mouth.

It would have been comical, Lena thought. Maybe in another life.

“What?” Kara lowered her fork.

Lena squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out Kara’s pout. “I can’t do this. I can’t… I’m sorry. See you later, okay?” 

Lena bit her lip. She needed to get out of there. Fast.

It had been two months—two months since they defeated Lex’s annual bid for world domination, two months since Lena had apologized, two months since Kara had decided to forgive.

Kara had snapped back to her old self so fast it gave Lena whiplash. One day it was “maybe I’m ready to forgive you,” the next, invitations to game night and brunch and excited texts about cute baby hats and cat videos and ideas for new articles. 

Within a week, Kara was acting as if the last year were a bad dream. She’d shaken herself awake, yawned, stretched, and moved on.

But for Lena, everything had changed, even as everything around her slipped back to the way it was before. Navigating Kara’s happy rambling, her piles of food, her easy friendship, Lena felt like she was a character following a script on autopilot, an extra in someone else’s life.

She couldn’t take it anymore.

Her heart racing, Lena reached into her purse. She pulled out a handful of bills and tossed them onto the table without even checking the denominations.

She pushed the restaurant door open. That same strange feeling of autopilot gripped her, propelling her forward. 

She only managed to get halfway down the block before Kara reached her.

“Lena, wait. What can’t you do anymore? You don’t want to be my friend? Lena! Don’t shut me out again!”

Kara stared down at Lena, her blue eyes wide with concern and a little panic. Lena felt a jolt of guilt for wiping the cheer from Kara’s face.

Lena took a deep breath. “Brunch.”

“What?”

Lena glanced at her hands and bit her lip. “I don’t mean I can’t be… friends with you anymore. Just… brunch. I can’t do brunch like that. Like before… everything.”

“But everything’s been fine,” Kara said cautiously.

Lena averted her eyes from the tall blonde in front of her, instead watching the cars rush by under the intense summer sun of National City. She suppressed the urge to run. 

Or better yet, to give a sharp, sarcastic comment, turn on her heels, and escape into a glass of scotch in her apartment.

It would be easier. 

“Talk to me, Lena.”

Lena swallowed. Every part of her body was demanding she retreat. Alarm bells were ringing, drowning out her thoughts. But she knew what was on the other end of the retreat—emptiness. Loneliness. The cavernous prison of one hidden behind her walls, inside her little boxes.

“You won’t like it.”

A split second later and Lena was already cursing herself for the honest answer. 

Why had she said that? She’s had something good going, something so good—Kara had forgiven her, after all. 

So what if her anger creeped out from its hiding place deep inside her when she saw a flash of Supergirl’s emblem or Kara shoving a third donut into her mouth? So what if she felt like every game night, every brunch, every hug was a performance?

_Your feelings are valid, Lena. They’re just there, and they’re yours. You don’t have control over how you’re feeling at any given moment. It’s what you choose to do with them that matters._

Lena sucked in a breath. Stupid therapist. 

She didn’t even know why she had decided to go to one. She had chosen a therapist she had remembered Sam seeing, back before she moved to Metropolis. Still, the fact that she came personally recommended did not stop Lena from doing some thorough—some might argue illegal—vetting.

What was worse, her therapist was so… so pro-communication. Honesty. She didn’t even budge an inch when Lena had insisted that sharing her feelings with those she cared about was like exposing a daisy to a flamethrower. There would be nothing left.

“Okay,” Kara murmured, and Lena snapped her attention back to the nervous blonde in front of her. “I can take it. Talk to me.”

Lena glanced around at the busy sidewalk, the steady stream of people flowing around them.

“Okay. But not here.” 

“We can go back to my loft,” Kara suggested. 

Lena shook her head. “My condo.” 

Both places held memories, too many memories. But if they were going to talk, Lena wanted to be on her home turf. 

They walked in awkward silence, the only sound the sharp _click clack_ of Lena’s heels on the pavement and the ambient sounds of the surrounding city. 

It was strange, the quiet, after Kara’s incessant chatter. Lena could feel her heart pounding, and she knew Kara could feel hear it. 

Lena felt a jolt of annoyance. As always, Supergirl held the better hand. She could see right through her. 

Lena had no way to hide from Supergirl. If she chickened out and decided to dash away, leaving Kara and the words left unsaid behind, she couldn’t move fast enough to keep Kara from catching up.

Kara broke the silence on the elevator ride up to her condo. “Haven’t ridden this ole’ thing much lately,” she said with a nervous chuckle.

Lena didn’t respond. 

The entered the condo in silence. The muted tones and minimalist furniture of Lena’s home set a harsh contrast to the recent memory of the restaurant’s bright colors. 

Lena stepped slowly away from Kara, glancing around like a stranger in her own apartment.

Kara lingered by the door, unsure as to whether she should settle onto the couch or follow Lena’s cue. 

A few moments later, Lena sat down on the couch, her back straight as if she were in a board meeting.

“So what do you want to talk about?” Kara said gently. 

Lena didn’t answer. Kara added, a little faster, “You said you didn’t think I’d like it. Is something wrong?” 

When Lena once again remained quiet, her eyes adverted, Kara’s heart raced and she rushed to add, “What’s going on? I thought things had gone back to normal. I thought we were fine.”

“We’re not fine.” Lena finally looked at Kara. “ _I’m_ not fine.”

“Oh.” 

“I… I can’t,” Lena confessed. “I’ve tried to go back to normal. I just can’t.”

“But why?” Kara’s eyes started glimmering and her lower lip began to shake. Lena averted her eyes, another flash of guilt shooting through her heart like a lightning bolt. “We’ve been chatting like normal, going to brunch like normal, texting like normal—”

“I can’t go back to normal.”

“But we have!” Kara insisted. “At least, I thought we had. We talked, right? What? You can’t move on?”

Kara’s last words hit Lena like a gut punch. “I just can’t,” she said. “I’ve tried. But I can’t.”

“But why?” 

“Because I don’t know who you are!” 

Of all the responses that Kara had expected, that was certainly not one of them. 

“What?”

“I don’t know who you are,” Lena repeated, softly. Her every instinct shouted danger, but she pressed through.

“I’m the same person I’ve always been, Lee.”

“Which one? Kara or Supergirl?”

“I— both. Kara, Supergirl, they’re both me.”

Lena shook her head. “That’s the problem. I know they both were you. But no matter how much I try, and trust me, I have tried _so hard_ , they’re different.”

Lena looked at her hands. 

“You told me, before we fought Lex, that you had only done one thing. That you had made one mistake.”

Kara nodded cautiously.

Lena sighed and continued. “But to me, it isn’t one thing. It can’t be one thing. Because I still have a little Supergirl box and a little Kara box in my mind and for all that I try, I can’t get them to combine. Because I spent three years putting different memories and feelings and experiences in each of those boxes.”

“Lena, that’s not fair, I—”

Lena bit back her guilt. “Please. Let me talk, okay? Because if I don’t get this out, I’m scared that I’ll retreat back into myself again. I know you didn’t do it to hurt me, okay? I know you didn’t do it with the intention of deceiving me. But that’s what happened.”

Kara nodded. 

“I miss my Kara,” Lena added, not looking at Kara. The confession was uncomfortable, too intimate, even. But she didn’t know any other way to put it.

“I miss the woman who believed in me, no matter what, who always gave me the benefit of the doubt, who loves cheesy movies and understands why I can’t watch Disney princess movies with her even though she loves them so much.”

Lena finally lifted her eyes to look into Kara’s.

“I miss coffee at Noonan’s and lunch dates in my office and the way that Kara always looked out for the little guy. I miss my goofball Kara, who never took herself too seriously and who finally broke down my walls to convince me that I could be silly too.”

“But that’s still who I am!” Kara said, a tear spilling down her cheek. “Can’t you see that?”

“Yes!” Lena exclaimed. “I can see that, but that’s what makes it so hard. Because I miss Kara, but in my mind there’s this whole other person. Supergirl.”

Kara opened her mouth to argue, but at the last moment, restrained her words. 

If she ever wanted to move forward with Lena, Kara realized, she would have to listen to Lena’s point of view. And the trembling woman in front of her was being open, honest, bringing her in instead of pushing her away. 

If anything, the events of the last year proved what a great gift that was.

Lena ran her hands down her designer jeans. 

“Supergirl… Supergirl is the woman who would save me with one breath and judge me with the next. She is the person who told me that it wasn’t safe for someone in her family to tell a Luthor like me her identity.”

Kara opened her mouth to object. Lena cut her off.

“Supergirl–– Supergirl was the one who took it upon herself to be the arbiter of good and evil, and somehow as a Luthor, even just as a _scientist_ , I could never quite reach her standard of good. She spied on me, she used the people I cared about to spy on me.”

Lena gestured at the balcony. 

“Supergirl’s the one who would show up on my balcony at all times of day and night as if it were her own personal entrance, keeping an eye on me, making her demands. I was her ally, but never her confidante. Never trusted.”

“Lena,” Kara said pleadingly, her heart breaking. “I didn’t know that’s how you felt about me.”

“That’s how I felt about Supergirl,” Lena corrected softly. “A lot of the time.”

“But that wasn’t all,” Kara protested, her heart in her throat. “I was always there for you as Supergirl. _Always_. The second you were in danger I would be by your side. And even when everyone doubted you, like when Lillian tried to frame you, it was Supergirl that was by your side. Not Kara Danvers. You know?”

“Do you know what I remember?” Lena said softly. “‘Kara Danvers believes in you.’ Supergirl came to save me, yes, but only because my friend Kara was the only one who held out faith in me.”

Kara sat, stunned. She had never thought of it that way.

“For three years, Supergirl had a way of always crediting Kara Danvers with her faith in me, but always owning up to her doubts.”

Lena paused, weighing her next words. The truth of them was nestled too close to the heart of her pain.

“So it was easy for me, when Supergirl turned on me, to see that her previous support was nothing more than a favor for her friend. Even when Supergirl saved me without mentioning her friend Kara, I just assumed it was about Supergirl’s friendship with _her_ , and not her faith in me. Kara Danvers trusted me. Supergirl trusted Kara Danvers but doubted me.”

Lena’s eyes dropped to her hands. “I’m such an idiot.”

“I never meant for you to feel that way,” Kara said weakly. “I never imagined that you would see me that way.” 

Lena choked back a sob, embarrassed at the tears that had begun leaking down her eyes without her consent. “I know. But I need you to understand. _Please_.” 

Lena squeezed her eyes shut, angry that the tears wouldn’t stop. 

“I think deep down, Supergirl’s attitude always made more sense to me than Kara’s,” Lena confessed. “So when I learned that I was the only one of your friends, of _our_ friends, who didn’t know your secret, I guess it all fell into place. Supergirl needed to keep an eye on the Luthor, the loose cannon, the villain-in-the-making.”

Kara started to speak, but Lena cut her off, her voice rising in pitch.

“And I mean, I proved it, didn’t I? Supergirl always thought that Kryptonite wasn’t safe with me, and she was right, wasn't she? I h… hurt you. I used Kryptonite on you. Supergirl always doubted my intentions, and the second I was hurt, I put on a mask and I used you.” Lena finally allowed herself to look into the other woman’s glimmering blue eyes. 

“No,” Kara said softly. Lena blinked. Kara grasped Lena’s hands with her own. “Lena, you’ve apologized for what you did. And I forgave you. It didn’t prove anything, except that you were hurt. It was never about not trusting you.”

Lena snorted through her tears. “Yeah, it was about keeping me safe. You’ve said. It just doesn’t feel that way, not when the two people who make it their life mission to cause me pain both knew.”

Kara bit her lip. “I shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t. Well, maybe at first it was, when we first met, but then… It was about keeping _me_ safe. I knew you’d be hurt, I knew you’d be angry, and the idea of losing you hurt so much that I chose the coward’s path. I lied. I lied and asked our friends, your friends, to lie to you.”

Lena sunk a little into the couch. The honesty of Kara’s acknowledgment surprised her.

“Thank you. It’s just so hard—for all her faults, Supergirl never lied to me, you know? She told me why she wouldn’t tell me her identity. She told me her doubts about me. But Kara—Kara lied. Constantly.” She blinked through her tears. “I miss my Kara. I just don’t know if she exists.” 

Kara gripped Lena’s hands with hers and shifted so she was kneeling in front of Lena, looking up at her watery green eyes intently.

“She exists. She’s here. I’m here. Supergirl—she wasn’t honest. I know you think that her being mean meant she was honest, but that’s not it. She was scared. She was harsh. And yes, she was arrogant. Everyone told her she was a hero, and she felt the weight of that.”

“When she,” Kara shook her head, “no, when _I_ told you that a Luthor shouldn’t ask someone in my family her name, I was being petty. I was being a jerk. I was letting my better judgment be eaten by the persona that the world, that I, had created for myself. It was never about you being a Luthor. It was about me not being strong enough to risk the most important person in my life. It was about me putting my comfort over honesty.”

Lena nodded, feeling drained. Her heart pounded. She wanted to believe Kara and yet…every fiber of her being sounded alarm bells.

Lena stood up and walked to the glass door to the balcony, looking out over the city. 

Kara stood as well, hovering a few steps back from Lena.

Finally, Lena turned, her arms clutching her body like a suit of armor. 

“I miss my Kara,” Lena repeated, her voice breaking. 

Kara moved closer to Lena, eyes wide and arms outstretched. Lena glanced at her arms then allowed herself to lean slight forward.

Kara wrapped her in her embrace. “I’m right here.”

A small sob sneaked its way out of Lena’s mouth. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” Kara whispered. Lena let her head fall onto Kara’s shoulder, nuzzling her nose into her neck. It felt risky, but she needed to let go, if just for a moment.

After a few moments, Lena broke away. “I wish I could trust that. And Kara, I’ve tried. I just can’t.”

Kara’s eyes fell. “Why?” she whispered.

Lena fiddled with her hands. When she spoke, she didn’t quite meet Kara’s gaze. 

“You’re the first person I’ve known with two completely different identities, but…” she paused, considering whether to proceed, “To tell you the truth, growing up, I was surrounded by people wearing different faces. And what I’ve learned is that the kindest face is usually the mask. The true face is usually the one that hurts.”

“That’s not how it is with me,” Kara insisted. 

Lena stared at Kara. She kept her back straight, trying to maintain a modicum of the dignity she felt slipping from her during the encounter. Kara’s eyes were wide. She looked so sincere, so earnest. 

“I just wish I could help you trust me,” Kara whimpered.

Lena felt herself slipping. The thought terrified her.

“Let me show you something.” Lena’s own words surprised her. One part of her—the loud, scared part, revolted. _Don’t let her in, don’t let her in, don’t let her in,_ it insisted, like a pounding migraine.

Another, smaller voice, one that sounded annoyingly like her therapist, whispered, _Help her understand. That’s only possible if you let her in._

Kara nodded and sat back down on the white couch.

Lena walked to the bookcase that lined her back wall. Her hand found the book without even looking, a nondescript theoretical text on neural interfacing. 

Lena was ashamed to admit how many times she had looked at this picture in recent days, beating herself up, trying to understand how she could have been so stupid as to let herself be fooled by them again.

She pulled the aging magazine page folded discreetly between the pages of the text and replaced the book on the shelf.

Lena handed Kara the magazine page without looking at it. 

Kara took it. Her brow furrowed more as she took in the faded photo. Whatever she had been expecting Lena to show her, this was not it. 

It was a page from an old edition of _People_ from 1997 judging by the date in the corner. 

Kara’s eyes settled on the picture in the middle. The first thing she recognized was a younger version of Lillian Luthor, still as tall and haughty as ever but with an uncharacteristically open smile spread across her face. 

Kara’s eyes skimmed past the bald man standing next to Lillian, looking dignified but giving the camera a warm smile. 

Instead, her eyes settled on the small girl in front of the adults, standing next to a scrawny preteen boy. The little girl was giving the camera a toothy smile. Her dark brown hair was tied up in a big pink bow.

“That’s you? You’re precious!” Kara exclaimed.

Lena sat back down on the couch next to Kara without responding.

“Look at those sleeves,” Kara chuckled, running her thumb along little Lena’s dress. It was a shimmery green number with a wide skirt and long, puffed sleeves that ended in lace. “Honestly I am not the least bit sad I missed the Earth nineties.”

Lena gave a soft laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. 

“Why are you showing me this?” Kara asked. “I didn’t need any convincing to think you’re cute.” 

When Lena didn’t respond, Kara’s eyes scanned the picture’s caption, looking for clues. 

_Metropolis’ Lionel and Lillian Luthor, LuthorCorp magnates, introduce their adopted daughter, Lena._

Kara skimmed the article. Phrases like _adoring brother_ and _proud parents_ jumped out, along with some writing gushing over the child’s adorable fading Irish accent and dramatic references to the _tragic circumstances that left the child an orphan at such a tender age._

Lena’s voice broke into her reading. Kara looked up.

Lena spoke before she could backtrack, before her discomfort overpowered her need for connection and she retreated into herself.

“My father wasn’t a violent man. He was a good man—busy, distant, but that’s what it takes to run a company, y’know?” She laughed thickly. “But um, he’d drink a lot when he was stressed. I learned that he was best left alone during those times, you know how it is.”

Lena averted her eyes from Kara’s. She was scared to see the warmth she knew would be pooling there, scared that Kara would latch onto the wrong details from this story.

“This picture was taken at a benefit about five months after I started living with them. The nanny let me decide on my dress. I chose this little purple dress with cap sleeves. It made me feel like a princess.”

Kara smiled at the thought of the little girl in the picture, a tiny Lena, spinning around in a sparkly purple dress, dreaming of being a princess. 

Lena continued, “But then two days before… I don’t remember the details. I had wandered into my father’s study. I liked to look at the books there. My father was upset about something, probably a deal gone south. He had been drinking. He didn’t notice me at first.”

Lena paused, eyes averted from Kara’s face.

“When he did, he got angry. He grabbed me hard by my arms and started screaming—I don’t remember what about, probably something to do with bothering him when he was trying to get something important done. His work was everything to him.”

“Oh, Lena,” Kara began. Her mind flitted to two months ago. _You can scream at me if you’d like. I deserve it._ Her stomach twisted. 

“He didn’t hurt me, not really,” Lena rushed to add. “I don’t think he knew even who I was at that point. But you know, I’m so pale, he left bruises up and down my arms, so that’s why Lillian insisted on that green dress. God, I hated those sleeves.” Lena chuckled, trying to get Kara’s face to do anything other than look at her with that pity. “They were so scratchy.”

“Lena—”

“But you know Lillian,” Lena hurried on, “Appearances are everything to her, so she put me in that dress, and before we got out of the limo, she told me in no uncertain terms that if anyone thought I was anything other than the happiest little girl on earth, she would trade me in for a more grateful daughter.”

Kara’s eyes fell once again on the picture of the seemingly happy family, on little Lena’s wide smile that didn’t fully reach her eyes.

“None of that is okay, Lena. Your father hurt you, and your mother—”

“He never really hurt me,” Lena interjected. She hated the pity radiating from Kara’s face. “It would just look worse than it really was, you know,” she gestured at the skin of her arms, as if it were an obvious explanation.

“It doesn’t matter how pale you are, Lena,” Kara whispered. “A parent’s touch should never leave bruises on their child, no matter what.”

Lena bit her lip. “That wasn’t the worst part,” she said softly. “The worst part was that a second after threatening to abandon me, Lillian got out of that limo smiling and laughing. She spent the next three hours doting on me, hugging me, giving me little bites of cake, praising my reading and chess skills to anyone who would listen. I was five, and it was all so big and loud and magical. By the end of the night, I really believed she wanted me.”

Lena gestured at the photo. “What a proud mother, right? Of course, when we got back into the limo, the spell broke. She was the same woman as before, judgmental and cold.”

Her eyes drifted to the boy in the picture. “At least Lex still seemed like he cared. And well, you know how that ended.”

Kara put her hand on Lena’s shoulder, eyes searching. “Lena, I am so, so sorry. Nobody should ever—”

Lena jerked away. “I don’t want your pity, alright? I just—I keep that picture to remind me that things aren’t always as they seem. Especially with them.” 

Lena bit her lip. Her eyes met Kara’s. “And yet even with this, even knowing that this is what they always do, even after they’ve done it over and over and over again, I still let myself trust them again. And they were using me, the whole time.” 

Lena’s voice grew higher, sorrow and acerbic self-derision mixing in equal measure. “I really am a fool.”

“Hey,” Kara said softly. “That’s on them. That’s not on you, Lena.”

“Yet if I couldn’t see them for what they really were doing, even after all that time, how do I know I can trust you?”

There it was. 

Lena forced her eyes to maintain contact with Kara’s as she let her deepest insecurity slip and waited for it to shatter on the ground.

Instead, Kara caught it.

“You can trust me,” Kara began, her voice gentle, “Because I am going to work every day to show you who I really am. You can trust me, because whenever you are feeling confused or unsure, you can ask me, and I will tell you the truth.”

Kara sucked in a deep breath. “I’m sorry that I tried to force us to get back to normal so quickly. The truth is, I was scared. I was scared that if I didn’t make things exactly as they were before, I would never get it back. But that wasn’t fair to you.”

“Okay,” Lena said softly.

“The truth is, maybe it’s better not to get back to the way things were before. You’re right, I didn’t just do one thing. Even though I want to forget it, I lied to you. Constantly. Repeatedly. I know Supergirl and Kara Danvers feel like different people to you right now, but I swear—I will work every day to show you that they are one and the same, and that they _both_ love and trust you, Lena, for exactly the person that you are.”

“I screwed up,” Lena whispered. “Why would you trust me?”

Kara pulled Lena into a hug. “Because I know you. I know you don’t feel like you fully know me right now, but I know you. You’re the woman that will do whatever necessary, even when it hurts, even when not everyone understands, to protect her friends. You’re the woman who is so good, so very good, that no matter what the world says about who you should be you persevere in trying to make the world a better place.”

Lena rested her head on Kara’s shoulder, the tears freely flowing. “I don’t know if that’s who I am,” she whispered.

They didn’t speak for a while. Instead, they both sank into the hug. 

“Hey,” Kara finally said, releasing the hug but cuddling Lena close. “Let’s both find out who we are together, okay?”

Lena sank into Kara’s arms. 

“Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> Stay safe and well everyone.


End file.
